From Russia with Love?
by Minerva394
Summary: Hermione Granger has kept a secret ever since the so called Final Battle. More than ten years later it might change her life. In a good way?
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note: According to Harry Potter Wiki Antonin Dolohov was born at least 10 years before Severus Snape. To make this story work I made him a sixth year when Snape started at Hogwarts. I would not have thought of ever writing about Dolohov if not reading Canimal's and Calebski's lovely stories, to be found here at this site. Their stories made him approachable for me but I have taken the utmost care to create my own Antonin._

_Not copyright infringement intended, be it J. 's or Canimal's or Calebski's._

_Silly Author's note: If by the HP world were real and Antonin were alive – I would have seen him last month: He left his DE-days behind, obviously practised the guitar a lot and therefore was a wonderful side-man to Rickie Lee Jones on her recent European tour. _

May 2nd, 1998

A strong arm across her chest dragged Hermione Granger behind a tapestry. Harry had taken Snape's memories and run off towards the Pensieve in the Headmaster's office. On her way to look for her friend the young witch had been distracted for a second, seeing the Weasley family huddled over Fred's body, grief coming in palpable waves.

A wand was pressed into the terrified girl's neck and a harsh voice whispered, "Where's Snape? Tell me where to find him!"

Dolohov! Hermione's scar tinged in recognition. Her thoughts whirled. If the Death Eater wanted her dead she would be dead already. Now was not the time for heroics. In a split second she reached a decision and answered, "Voldemort killed him in the Shrieking Shack." She felt a shudder going through her captor's body pressed to her back.

"Take me to him!" When she hesitated Dolohov growled, "Apparition wards are down, take me there!" Hermione concentrated and turned on her heel.

The moment they landed in the dusty room next to Snape's body she was thrown away and Stunned. Dolohov hurried over to his fallen comrade, waving his wand over the body. The young witch, having landed on her side, recognised diagnostic spells. Realising their flickering meant that Snape was not dead a wave of guilt assaulted her. She had been uneasy with how things had seemed, hadn't been able to believe that Dumbledore had misjudged Snape so terribly. If she had thought for a second that the Potions master could have survived Nagini's attack she would have tried to save him, on the off chance that there was another explanation other than the obvious for his action's on the Astronomy tower.

"Come on, little man, you're a Potions master! Don't tell me you haven't taken anti-venin! Too much blood, too much blood!" Conjuring bandages Dolohov tried to stem the trickle of blood still coming from Snape's wounds. Looking at the still flickering diagnostics Hermione realised that the man's blood pressure was already dangerously low. She had Blood Replenishing potions in her beaded bag, among other things. She could help. Did she want to? A Death Eater and Dumbledore's murderer? Something was odd about Dolohov's behaviour and Hermione had long since wondered about Snape's betrayal. The Russian must have heard her frantic thoughts.

"Severus here hasn't been loyal to the Dark Lord since the Evans girl's death. If you have an idea about how to save him, do it!" With a flick of his wand Hermione found herself unbound. She produced a phial of Blood Replenishing potion. Coming closer to the two men she nearly stepped into a pool of the Potions master's blood. There was simply too much of it. A wild idea occurred to her. Dolohov was supposed to be one of the top curse breakers and ward masters in Europe. Hermione addressed him, "Put him in Stasis, close the wound and spell the potion into his stomach. I fear he has lost too much blood already, there's no time for the potion to work as he has barely any circulation left. I am going to try something very risky. When you are finished collect his blood and try to cleanse it, of venom and of all the dirt here."

Dolohov followed her commands with alacrity while the young witch concentrated hard on Transfiguring a handkerchief into a bag and a flexible tube for an intravenous transfusion. She wanted to try to put Snape's blood back into the man and so keep him alive long enough for the potion to work. Hermione had seen it done often enough but finding a blood vessel in a dying man was difficult. She succeeded finally. Dolohov must have at least an inkling of what she was doing for he spelled the collected blood into the Transfigured bag and conjured a stand. Looking at her for confirmation he liftet the Stasis charm. Now they had to wait.

Not looking away from the still flickering vitals above Snape's body Dolohov began to talk.

"I was in my sixth year when he came to Hogwarts. A scrawny, underfed waif. Wildeyed with wonder one moment and vicious as a rabid stray the next. Black and his gang targeted him from day one and no teacher ever gave a damn. Slytherin looks after its own, but not so much when you're a half-blood, dirt poor and have put a Muggle poster of Rudolf bloody Nurejew above your desk."

At this Hermione emitted a gasp, "Professor Snape is gay?"

Dolohov sent her a dark look.

"What is it with you! I thought Muggleborns were supposed to be less bigoted?! Appreciating the fine art of ballet doesn't make a man gay. Doing the barre is a fine work-out, being quick on your feet does give you an edge when duelling."

The picture rising in Hermione's mind was too hilarious, she started to snicker, "You'll have me believe that Vo-"

The Death Eater had her silenced so quickly she hadn't even seen his wand move.

"Think before you speak, girl! Wasn't breaking the taboo on his name what brought you to Bellatrix's tender mercies? If you are really the brightest witch of your generation we can pack up already! You want this place swarming with loyal follower?"

He flicked his hand this time and Hermione could speak again.

"I am sorry, that was incredibly stupid of me. So you are no loyal follower?"

Relaxing a fraction, as the Potion master's vitals improved slightly, the Death Eater answered with a grim smirk, "Subtle, aren't you? No wonder Severus always had a massive headache on Fridays. For what it's worth – I supported some of the Dark Lord's ideas in the beginning but I would not have joined his followers without my father. I wanted to travel the world, work for Gringotts in New Zealand or in Patagonia, or be a freelancing curse breaker, not doing the dirty work for an increasingly unstable megalomanic."

Screams and shouts were heard through the night. Dolohov was casting wards with incredible speed, most of whom Hermione could not make head nor tail of. Then the wizard cast a long-ranging eaves-dropping spell. Voldemort could be heard speaking. They could not make out his words but the Dark Lord's inflection did not bode well for the Light, it sounded triumphant. The young witch tried to suppress her panic and concentrated on the diagnostic spell. Snape's blood pressure was rising steadily. Dolohov was eying her with a thoughful mien.

"As soon as I can risk it with Severus I will use a Portkey. It would carry you as well, if you want to tag along. I cannot guarantee that you will be able to contact your friends immediately on arrival. If the Dark Lord has truly won you are not safe in Britain. He already has spies in the Ministry, Muggleborns will be hunted."

Hermione thought about this with a heavy heart. In her beaded bag were Muggle clothes as well as a stash of dollars and her real and a fake passport. If Dolohov's portkey would bring her to Russia as she suspected she would be safe for a while. The country was free of Voldemort's influence. She could rest a bit, gauge some news and then go on to Scandinavia from there. If it was safe she could take a ferry back to Britain from Norway. The young witch thanked the Death Eater for his offer but wanted to postpone her decision until the last possible moment.

Just then Dolohov gripped his left arm, some seconds later jubilations and fireworks could be heard. The wizard started to unbutton his sleeve. Shoving the unblemished white skin towards Hermione he exclaimed, "He's gone, the sucker's truly gone now!"

For a moment the young witch had the strange feeling that she was about to be hugged but it passed. A second later Dolohov was all business again. He shaved some skin of his arm, mixed it with Summoned dirt and a lock of his hair and, after a lenghty incantation that left the watching Gryffindor breathless with academic interest, had an eery looking simulacrum of himself. After looking out of the window towards the Forbidden Forest he Levitated the Disillusioned body towards an area where some giants were still breaking trees left and right. Then he repeated the process with Snape's hair and skin and spelled gruesome wounds on the neck of the golem, leaving it lying next to it's living original.

When he searched his pockets for the Portkey Hermione finally found her speech again, "You have to watch him carefully for infections. And Healer Smethwyck at St. Mungo's has developed an anti-venin for Nagini especially."

Now Dolohov smiled, "Are you sure about that? Don't you think he had help from a very talented Potions master who had acess to Nagini? Nevertheless, thank you, Miss Granger. And farewell."

After the two man had vanished to God knows where she was staring at the spot they had been before sending her Patronus to Harry and Ron.


	2. Chapter 2

December 21st, 1998

The postcard was dog-eared and seemed to have travelled for some time. It showed a breathtaking Patagonian mountain view. The address was of Hermione's childhood home, therefore it was decidedly odd that the card had reached her at Grimmauld Place number twelve. Written on it in block letters was "Missing you", with a scrawled "not" added in another hand. Hermione Granger was thankful that there was no one else in the kitchen at the moment. After applying a shield around her person she begun to check the missive for spells. There were loads of them on the innocent looking postcard – spells, wards, jinxes. Intrigued the young woman Levitated the thing upstairs into the library. Most of her books and notes were there and usually no one bothered her there as well.

After the so-called `Battle of Hogwarts´ Hermione had not said anything about what had happened in the Shrieking Shack. She had waited and waited. And then there was the moment when it was too late to say anything. Harry had made sure that Severus Snape was exonerated and was now hailed as a hero of the war, second only to Harry himself. This was a point of dissention between the three friends, as Ron was still ranting about the late Potions master. Hermione could understand well enough, after loosing a brother and watching another one loosing himself, the youngest Weasley tried to make sense of what had happened and was desperately looking for someone to blame. In the same way Ronald put Snape down for his abrasive personality Harry put him on a pedestal for his friendship with Lily Evans. The Potions master's body had not been found in the Shrieking Shack, as somebody had blasted the whole building sometime after the Light's victory, but traces of tissue and blood had been matched with Poppy's files of the staff. Dolohov had been listed dead as Lucius Malfoy and Minerva McGonagall both had testified that they had seen his lifeless body in a giant's hand before said giant had bitten off head and shoulders. Molly Weasley had opened a bottle of elf-made wine upon hearing that.

Three hours later Hermione's hair had escaped her chignon, her cheeks were flushed and her breath coming in short puffs. The spells and wards on the innocent looking postcard were a thing of beauty. The young witch was captivated by it. The first ward she unravelled was a personalized postal ward, which was also the explanation why the missive had reached her. The usual spells for privacy and tampering were layered in an intellectually challenging and very elegant way. There was a big ward still active. Hermione was able to say it might be pass-word activated. After trying the obvious ones – Nagini, Voldemort (she thought it possible that the two would find it funny using Tom Riddle's moniker for this), Dumbledore, several potions ingridients like asphodel, flobberworm, aconite – she was getting a bit desperate. Taking a break for a cup of tea and being inordinately glad that she still encountered no other inhabitants of the old Black house she sat down and made lists. A separate list for Snape, Dolohov and herself, more lists of words possibly having a special meaning. Nothing worked. As a last ressort she wrote down everything she remembered of her encounter with Dolohov at the Battle of Hogwarts. Circling all nouns and names of spells it suddenly became obvious. With a triumphant cackle Hermione pointed her wand at the postcard and shouted "Nurejew!"

The card grew in size and unfolded itself into a long letter, written in two hands. Bold block capitals started.

_Dear Ms Granger,_

_Thank you for your help some time ago and for your discretion. My friend did not deserve the fate his two merciless masters had in store for him and without you I could not have saved him. I am not prepared to enter into a discussion whether I deserve to be free but I want to assure you that you have not helped a sociopathic monster to escaped. During the first war I have done my share of bad deeds in a conflict I had no wish to be entangled with. I have spent nearly twenty years in prison for it. The Prewett twins were killed in a wizarding duel between the Lestrange brothers and them. Alastar Moody and I were seconds then, but I heard he told the story differently later on._

_I truly regret using that curse on you in the Department of Mysteries. My colleague has read about your possible romantic entanglement with a Weasley. As he has helped treating you he urged me to write to you as the curse can cause problems with conceiving. Please forgive me if we are overstepping personal bounds here. A regime of specialised potions for preparation and the counterspell `yaswa leetsheat´ sung three times in an ascending minor key should do the trick. Be sure to practise it on cuts caused by my friend's signature cutting spell._

_I wish you a good life._

_A.J.D._

_Granger,_

_If you are indeed set on throwing your considerable mind away for popping out a redheaded Quidditch team you need to treat yourself with the following potions. If you haven't slackened too much in your potions work you should be well able to brew them yourself but be sure to use only the best ingredients. Go to Culpepper's Apothecary on the corner of Knockturne Alley and ask for Guild-quality items. For the plants only trust Longbottom. (You may cackle at this point of this ridiculous letter. Buy him a pint for offing darling Nagini.)_

_Do what you have to do._

_S.T.S._

By now Hermione was openly crying. Snape was really alive and obviously his usual cranky self. Well aware that the short paragraph of spiky hand offered her two huge compliments she read through the recipes following. They were a challenge but certainly doable. Wherever the two wizards were their information, the Daily Prophet, was woefully out of date. Her romance with Ron following their kiss after the battle had been shortlived. The youngest Weasley son had not understood her need to stay in Australia with her parents. Mr and Mrs Granger had been very angry with their daughter. At the moment they were yet undecided whether to return to Britain or stay in Australia. Living at Grimmauld Place with Harry and Ginny was convenient for Hermione but since Ronald was a frequent guest things were fraught with tension. On some level he did understand that they were not truly compatible as a couple but too often for the young witch's comfort did he lash out at her, accusing her of not supporting him and his family after Fred's death. Harry got caught in the middle while Ginny was openly siding with her brother. Hermione still had a week to decide whether to start training at the ministry of magic's law department or go to the Sorbonne's wizarding university for studying magical theory. The latter was looking better and better and may well be the only way to salvage some kind of friendship with Ron.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: Thank you for the kind reviews and messages! Enjoy!_

Part III

June 10th, 2010, St. Petersburg

Magical theorist and Charms mistress Hermione Granger was glad to have tucked on some days for relaxiation after the highly interesting but exhausting conference in Moscow. She had travelled from Moscow to St. Petersburg by train, had visited the more touristy sights of the old city and now was trying to find out more about the ordinary people living here. The city had a wizarding district where she had shopped extensively in the book shops. Russian wizarding culture had a different approach to categorisations of magic being light, grey or dark, bolstered by a strong sense of individual responsibility and an Auror force so effective it made the KGB look like a crotcheting circle.

After spending some time at the market at Sennaya square Hermione let herself drift, following chatting shoppers here and stopping to look into a shop window there. A not quite in tune piano was heard from open windows over her head. In rhythm with the music a voice was calling comands. The sign next to the open door showed this was a private ballet school, a handwritten timetable told Hermione – after a silent and wandless translation spell – that an adult class was about to end. Intrigued she went into the building and followed the sounds of the piano upstairs. Hidden in the dark corridor she watched through the door of the classroom which was open like the windows due to the oppressive heat of the last days. Adults of all ages and shapes were doing their exercises, men and women alike. Most wore yoga pants or leggins. One birdlike old dancer, Hermione guessed her to be close to eighty, astonished her with her posture and grace. Murmuring voices alerted her to the end of the lesson. Dashing into the loo next to the classroom she washed her face and thought of Dolohov's comment long, long ago about the barre being fine for working out. Yoga worked fine for herself. The dancers were getting dressed. Through the open door of the washroom Hermione heard two male voices talking in Russian, one terribly familiar, if a bit rougher than she remembered. With the translation charm still on she understood every word.

"Your chassé was quite spirited today. If you don't tone down a bit Natalia will want to cast you again for her exhibition."

The other man sighed, "Yes, yes. Today I was feeling like twenty again. I don't know what came over me."

"Twat. Trying to impress the young ladies?"

"No, certainly not. Something is happening, I can feel it."

"All right, Cassandra, let's make our way to the market, you know that Wassili doesn't hold our chops forever." A snort and the sound of a thrown towel, followed by laughter was heard. The two men passed the washroom and left. Hermione waited for five more minutes before making her way down the stairs as well. She still could not place that voice. Lost in her thoughts she never saw the two shadows waiting at the bottom of the stairs until a wand was pressed into her kidney. Hermione realised that the faces of her attackers were disguised by a spell. They made a sharp turn into a back alley and then she felt the disconcerting sensation of an Apparition against her will.

Landing in a wooded area she found herself bound to a tree. As a Charms mistress her situation was by no means desperate, she could undo everything wandlessly and silently, but she wanted to know the identity of her attackers. When their Glamours fell she gasped.

"Professor Snape! Dolohov!"

Dolohov gave her a short bow, his mien serious. Snape looked at her with no expression. Both men still wore tracksuit bottoms and sweaty t-shirts.

"Ms Granger, we felt your magical signature at Natalia's. I must insist that you tell me how you found us."

Astonishment flooded her.

"I haven't been looking for you! I was playing tourist after that conference in Moscow last week. After the market square I was looking for a cafè to sit down when I heard the sound of the piano. I have to admit that's when I thought of your comment that the barre is good for working out and so I went upstairs to see what kind of people took ballet classes. Professor Snape can look at my memories if you do not believe me."

The men exchanged looks. Then Snape came nearer.

"Ms Granger, allow me." Hermione nodded and met his eyes squarely.

After two minutes Snape unbound her and addressed his friend, "She speaks the truth, and she feels no ill will towards us, not even towards you, Antonin."

"Ms Granger, please accept our apologies. Could we make it up with dinner?" Hermione remembered that eleven years ago she had been right to trust the Russian and decided to take a leap of faith again.

"I would be honored to accept that invitation. I do hope that you let me pick your brains about that post card. I still haven't unravelled every little charm on it."

Snape snorted, "Antonin's a show-off."

Dolohov retaliated, "I could not have applied my charm without your potion. You may have noticed that the postcard reacts to you mood. It will emit the smell of your favourite comfort food if you are down, it will smell like a forest if you are angry. The charm is tricky, but without a potion I could not have anchored it on the postcard for such a long time."

Hermione had at least twenty more questions for Dolohov but Snape intervened, "Antonin, take her home, start the potatoes and get a shower. I'll pop back for the chops."

"Aye, aye, captain." The elder man held his elbow towards Hermione in an invitation. She felt a tug and moments later they landed in a shed. Casting a Lumos Dolohov led her towards a door that opened into an impressive garden. There were potions ingredients, to be sure, but also nearly every imaginable vegetable and herb. Seeing her interest the former Death Eater offered, "If you will take a look around the garden I could take a quick shower?"

"Of course, Mr Dolohov, I'd like that."

"Would you call me Antonin, Ms Granger?"

"Why?"

"Severus says you are to be trusted. You are the first witch we brought here. You are special."

Hermione felt like she was missing a crucial piece of information.

"Then you must call me Hermione. I am not sure whether I can ever call Professor Snape by his given name."

"He listens to dushka as well."

Dolohov found himself flipped over and hung up by an ankle. Snape was back.

"Don't listen to that oaf, Ms Granger."

"What does dushka mean?" She still had the translation charm on but she was curious about the relationship between the two men. Snape raised an eyebrow.

"It means dear, as you well know. But it is mostly used in a non-romantic way, like `Pomona Sprout is an absolute dushka´."

Dolohov laughed, "You think that if it gives you comfort."

Hermione sat down heavily on one of the sturdy kitchen chairs, looking from one man to the other.

"You've just tilted my worldview again. Am I to believe that you are a ballet dancing, Austen quoting intellectual and all that Death Eater business was just a big misunderstanding?"

Snape put tea on the table.

"You opened that particular can of worms, Antonin. You deal with her questions while I take a shower."

Dolohov put an ungodly amout of sugar into his tea and summoned a bottle of firewhiskey, pouring a generous dash in his cup.

"What do you want to know, Hermione?"

"You told me about the Prewetts and about your father's pressure to join Voldemort. I have since read old court transcriptions. For the crimes proven by the Wizengamot your sentences, with the exception of Bellatrix', seemed excessively harsh, Crouch Sr's doing, I suppose. There were also some descriptions of Riddle's earlier years and even I, as a Muggleborn, can understand where he came from. Even Harry thought it a sensible idea to integrate Muggleborns earlier than at eleven. My parents were supporting and understanding, but a lot of Muggles came to hate what they thought unnatural or even demonic powers in their children. I have since met quite a few Muggle-raised or Muggleborn who suffered abuse, like Harry. And my view of Dumbledore changed, too. What was he thinking, sending a child back into London during the Blitz? Tom Riddle may or may not have been a psychopath from childhood on, but living through something like that is bound to leave a mark. It goes a long way to explain his obsession with immortality. I do not believe that conception from somebody influenced by a love-potion causes the child to be unable to feel love. Sometimes I wonder what would have become of Riddle if somebody would have cared about him."

"We will never know. Severus and I try to think as little as possible about him and everything connected to him. To answer your unspoken question – personally I think one cannot atone for some things and I have done such things. On the other hand no one gains from me sitting around doing nothing. Most of my fellow Death Eaters, who have committed comparable crimes, are out of Azkaban by now. I try to do my best for my fellow human beings, be they wizarding folk or not, and for society in general. Sev and I have developed several medicinal charms-potions-combinations that are well on their way to become standard in wizarding hospitals around the world."

"And you live here together?"

"We do, but we might have to relocate soon. Two men living together is frowned upon in Russia. It was easier in former times, as there was quite a lack of affordable living space and all kind of people lived together. As it is quite obvious that we do not lack money the pressure is getting higher and higher. This datcha has wards against a homophobic mob but neither Sev nor I like to be accosted during shopping for dinner. We are used to watch out for Aurors or for Brits in general, but we do not want to have to hide who we are. The big irony is that we aren't gay, even if we sleep with each other occasionally. We saved each other's lives for decades, we fought the demons in our lives together, we need each other like air or like water. If you know about women who would understand this and that Sev still strikes out to hurt if the memories become too much or that I have times I do not get up from my bed for weeks feel free to introduce them to us."

Hermione had listened with growing astonishment and now was deep in thought. She looked Antonin square into the eyes.

"You are lucky to have each other. Professor Snape and you have been in a difficult place far longer than my friends and I but we still had issues. This war should never have rested on the shoulders of school-children! Dumbledore and his damned secrets!" She drew a shaky breath, "After the war the friendship of Harry, Ron and I crumbled. We had different needs and different approaches to healing. Harry has found his rock in Ginny, and he was seeing a Muggle therapist to work through his issues from the abuse before daring to have children of his own. Ron was looking for a woman like his mother to soothe his pain and I could not be that for him. I went to counselling as well, I told them I was kidnapped and tortured and glamoured my scars to look like cigarette burns and random slashes of a knife. My parents understand now why I Obliviated them but our relationship is not as close as before. Luna Lovegood has a way of understanding I find very helpful but we see each other not very often due to her travels. I fear I have become quite anti-social, and also quite lonely. I tend to work to forget everything, but sometimes I get the feeling that I am missing something vital."

Neither had noticed that Snape had already fired up the stove and had dinner nearly ready.

"For this evening you won't be missing dinner, at least. Fetch some parsley and chive, set the table and open the wine, please."

Hermione went into the garden for the requested herbs and took her time. She was heartily glad that both men had carved themselves a niche in this post-war world and that they were as comfortable as possible. Still filled with many questions she made her way back into the kitchen.

Dinner was simple but very tasteful. Their conversation started with the spellwork on Hermione's postcard and ran from there. Somewhere along Snape – Severus by now – remarked how refreshing it was to talk to someone with whom they needn't to watch every word, either because their counterparts could not follow or because of the need for secrecy. Antonin tended to look at her in a way that made her feel tingly all over and her former Potions master used his very dry humour to make her laugh until her sides ached. After her third glass of firewhiskey she blundered on in typical Gryffindor fashion.

"Are you two flirting with me?"

Snape answered with a guarded look, "And what if we were?"

"I might be a tad overwhelmed."

"We can work with that." A glance passed between the two men.

Antonin spoke up, "A walk to clear our heads might be beneficial."

The wording brought a whiff of Austen into the room again. Hermione stretched in her chair and took her time to look them over. They were working in tandem to clean up the kitchen. Dolohov was wearing loose linen trousers and a shortsleeved shirt, Snape a black t-shirt and jeans cut off above his knees. Both were barefooted. Of very different build, one compact and muscled, the other lean and light, it was clear that both were in good shape physically. The Dark Marks were faded to a light grey, only visible if on looked very closely.

Snape passed his wand over all three of them before they left the datcha. He murmered, "Just to keep the gnats away. Come on, a white night is waiting."

They were silently making their way through the woods surrounding the datcha, up a hill. On the top, under an oak-tree, Dolohovs handkerchief became a blanket. Sitting down Severus pointed out the city, various ships and explained about the peculiar night sky.

"In two days time this place is filled with families watching the fireworks on June 12th. If you have no fixed timetable you should stay until then."

Dolohov cut in, "We have tickets for ballet at the Mariinsky tomorrow. Scottish Symphony and In the night. I guess we could get a third, if you like."

Hermione did not need to think about the offer for long. She had not felt in sync like now with her body and soul for a long time.

"I would like to stay."

"A good decision, thank you for your trust."

They sat for a while longer, watching falling stars, and when Hermione could no longer suppress a yawn they beckoned her to follow another path down the hill. Soon they reached a small stream. With an impish grin she wouldn't have dreamed to see on the solemn man's face Antonin asked her, "Care to wake up?"

He was already unbuttoning his shirt and hanging it over the branch of a small tree on the bank. A splash alerted her to the fact that Severus was already in the water. Dolohov stripped down to his pants and looked at her questioningly.

After the postcard with instructions for healing her wound from the Department of Mysteries the scar was not as noticeable as before, a silvery star on her sternum and a line along her torso. Usually Hermione put a Glamour on it when wearing a swimming costume or a dress with a plunging neckline but today she didn't care. Wherever her actions during the last two days were taking her, hiding what Antonin had caused was not the way to go, even if she had forgiven him long ago. Dropping her trousers and top she stepped closer to the water wearing only her undergarments.

Testing the temperture with her toes Hermione shuddered.

"That's as freezing as the Black Lake!"

"What did you expect? We're even farther North than Inverness!" Both men laughed and Antonin was splashing little amounts of water in her direction.

"Best way to do it is quick." Snape quipped. As she still hesitated he turned towards his friend and mock-whispered, "Classic case of wrong-sorting. She should have been in Ravenclaw instead of Gryffindor!"

"That is remarkably unsubtle for the former Head of Slytherin." Hermione walked a few steps upstream and threw herself into the water. The river was rather deep and slow near the bank they had undressed on and therefore allowed her to dive right under the two paddling men. She only hoped that she got the right one – Snape – when she slung her arms round his waist, dragging him under water. Not being suicidal she released the body quickly and used a few underwater strokes to put some distance between her victim and herself.

Antonin was laughing so hard he had to grapple the branch of an overhanging willow as he couldn't paddle anymore. Severus was standing in shallower water, clearly torn between outrage and laughter. His eyes narrowed into her direction before he dove back in. As Hermione hid behind Dolohov the waterfight soon went three ways with lots of dunking, grabbing and splashing. The water was very cold therefore they could not keep it up for very long and found themselves panting and wet on the river bank.

"We should Apparate back, I do not want to sneeze during the ballet tomorrow," Severus said. Antonin did a _Hominium Revelio_ as they had made quite some noise and might have attracted spectators. When the spell didn't show anything both men stepped right and left of her and Apparated back to the datcha. Landing right in a spacious bedroom Hermione looked at her companions with a raised eyebrow. The Russian smirked, "I directed us to Sev's room because that's where the linen cupboard is." He threw her a thick towel, "If you want to interpret my actions differently we are open to negotiations."

"Negotiations?"

The Potions master cut in, "Well, yes. Two men, one woman, partly opposite sides of the war, the difficulties of long distance relationships et cetera, et cetera. We got to know your intentions."

Hermione was not sure she was been had. Relationship? Intentions? The surreal feeling of the last hours and the admittedly good company Snape and Dolohov were might have led her to thinking about maybe, maybe having a threesome with the two men. And then go back to her flat, her friends and her life in London as a consultant. Her after three years of owning it still impersonal flat, her friends busy with their growing families, her life that consisted of the odd visit to a museum or bookshop and otherwise of work, work, work. Seeing her pensieve mien Antonin took Severus' elbow and dragged him out of the room, "We'll put the kessel on while you dress."

The young woman nodded distractedly. Thinking about it properly it occurred to her quickly that neither man had the temperament for a fling. They either commited or made do with the life they had. But what about her? Hermione had met some interesting people over the last years but no one that had made her thinking about settling down. The family life she observed with her friends sometimes frightened her. They were always exhausted, their life was nearly always chaotic and plans tended to crumble at a moment's notice because of a child's stomach bug. Having thought of theoretically having one or two children at one point in her life, raising them with two highly organised, grown up men might be the only way her personality could stand the inevitable upheaval such an endeavour would mean. The need to plan had surely been a character trait of her before going to Hogwarts but the constant stress and the war had made it grow exponentially. Deeply buried under the veneer of successful, confidential witch was a woman insecure about her ability to be a relaxed enough mother. Hermione Granger did not fear to be a mother not good enough, no, she feared to be too stifling, too controlling.

But such thoughts were in the far future. She squared her shoulders and made her way to the kitchen to negotiate a courtship as a way to get to know each others quirks.


	4. Chapter 4

The men were sitting next to each other, elbows on the table, miens expectant, on the opposite side of the kitchen table where her tea was waiting. Hermione sat down.

"I assume you were not having me on, did you?" Severus nudged the Russian.

"No, Hermione. You are admittedly the first woman in a long time that intrigues both of us. I cannot speak for Severus but the last hours have made me thinking of a bigger house, some color-coded chart in the kitchen where our combined assignments and conferences are put down a year in advance and even some darkhaired tyke running around. That is unheard of for me and a bit frightening."

The Potions master continued, "While I am not being as soppy as Antonin here I have been missing the company of a woman and you might be the only witch on earth I could stand being around for longer than an hour."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at this high praise from Severus.

"All right. I will lay down my cards as well. The first time thinking of seeing the two of you again or even entering in a relationship with you, both of you, had me scoffing at my own madness. What about my life back home? Further pondering this I realised that I could probably be living with you for a year before any of my friends beside Luna notice any difference. They are quite used to seeing me infrequently and the only ones I still have a relationship deeper than mere acquaintances with are Harry and Luna. They are like the siblings I never had. Luna won't be a problem, for Harry I would need to put his knowledge about us under a Fidelius, he tends to blab to his wife, unfortunately." Here she stopped Severus from speaking up, "Right now this sounds like me seeking a thrill without endangering my sedate life in Britain. Far from it. Ever since the war I crave predictability. I fear the amount of planning I do in my very mundane life is quite unhealthy. The time spent with you I did not feel the need to know everything that is going to happen and still I did not feel unsafe. I enjoyed myself in a way I haven't since before Hogwarts. I would truly like to explore possibilities for the three of us."

Antonin and Severus shared a small smile at this declaration. The latter drawled, "It's always refreshing with them Gryffindors."

"That might be one of the first rules in whatever relationship we might end up – no House-jokes," Hermione countered. Antonin laughed.

"Done a few years ago. Whenever Sev was disgruntled I had to endure the most dreadful House-bashing."

"You were not in Slytherin?"

"No. Hufflepuff."

The witch tried hard to put on her best poker face and failed miserably. Her companions smirked.

"Dedicated, unafraid of toil and occasionally pigheaded?"

"That's me in a nutshell, right."

Still not sure whether the two were joking or not Hermione ploughed on.

"How about I show you my calendar for the next months and we think about good times to meet and get to know each other better? We might even try to follow some sort of rules for a courtship."

Both men looked thoughtful and Severus answered, "That might be beneficial. I have been away from Britain long enough for me to see you as a grown woman, an image that thankfully has superimposed over the over-eager child, but for you I could still be your dreaded teacher. Exchanging letters and meeting in a different setting would help."

"You were never dreaded by me, just respected. And ever since the Shrieking Shack – when I thought of you, or of the life of you both – I imagined you reading or brewing, duelling or working on the barre."

"And did you think about us often?" Antonin cut in.

"No. About once or twice a year, more often after your letter. What I cannot imagine at the moment is courting, if you want to call it that, two men at the same time. If I kiss one, will the other be jealous, or hurt even?"

"We might have some experience with that situation. Not in the long term, but we know enough about each other's pecularities to avoid such problems," the Russian tried to assure her. Hermione was not calmed.

"That's not what I mean. I have no fears in that area you might have been talking about. Relationships have their own pace and I don't think that any connection developing between me and you and me and Severus will do so parallel. I might be drawn more to one of you than the other at some point. It is just so unpredictable!" She threw her hands up and then settled her head on her arms. After a minute of silence one kitchen chair creaked and two strong hands were rubbing the tense muscles at her neck and shoulders.

"Don't worry too much, little one. We will cross that bridge when we come to it." Antonin's deep tones were very relaxing, as were his hands. Or were those Severus'? She did not care at the moment and neither did she when strong arms lifted her from the chair to settle her on the settee. Someone must have enlarged it because it now comfortably hosted the three of them. Hermione knew herself well enough that if she opened her eyes she would not be able to stop analyzing and worrying therefore she kept them resolutely shut when a second set of hands continued the massage on her feet. She was fairly sure that she was leaning against Antonin whose hands were still rubbing her shoulders but also down her arms, occasionally brushing along the sides of her breasts with a featherlight touch. Which must mean that the warm breath she felt on the inside of her left knee must be Severus. As his hands travelled even further up she heard him chuckle softly, "Tony might get a kiss first but I got to smell your snatch before him." Distracting her with peppered kisses on the side the Russian murmered, "Don't be so crass, dushka, that's not the way to woo a lady."

They did not get much further than caresses that evening but it went a long way to ease Hermione's worries. The following day was spent in the library (Hermione and Antonin), garden (Antonin and Severus) and lab (Hermione and Severus). For lunch they had a salad and lively discussions about their current projects. Hermione gave an overview about her current contribution to a Charms journal, Antonin described the challenges of designing wards for the country manor of a Squib descendant of a prominent Russian family who had ties into and many visitors from both worlds and Severus tried to pluck their minds for an out-of-the-box solution for a potion he was working on. The witch got first dibs on the bathroom and then spent a - for her - extraordinary amount of time on Transfiguring just the right dress and shoes for attending the ballet. Judging from the open mouths of her companions she succeeded with the empire cut imperial red dress that showed off her shoulders and decollete, complete with strappy sandals and a chiffon shawl a shade darker, hair done up with a few artfully escaping ringlets. Antonin excused himself to fetch the car, an 1986 model Lada. As they lived far from any sort of public transport they could not Apparate at will for every excursion into St. Petersburg, hence the car.

They parked closely to the Mariinsky Theatre, made possible by a Do-Not-Notice-Me – Charm that was bound to be illegal in Russia too. Severus and Antonin were decked out in fine suits, one black, one a dark blue, and ties. Before finding their seats in the magnificent theatre the men insisted on a snack of blini and sparkling wine from the Black Sea to tide them over until dinner, for which Severus had booked a table at a Georgian restaurant nearby.

A bit lightheaded from the wine, dazzled by the athmosphere around her Hermione felt the two men to her left and right acutely. Their behaviour reminded her at parts of choreography and at parts of two wolves coordinating a hunt. Seemingly casual touches to prevent her shawl from slipping, a mayhaps accidental brush while explaining something that happened on stage, hot breath on her knee when picking up a dropped program. Hermione felt like a princess and was enjoying herself thoroughly.

Music and ballet were of the best to be had although she lacked the expertise the two men had. Dinner afterwards was tantalizing. The young witch had never experienced so many culinary delights in such short order. Her companions at turns exasperated and amused her with their ability to communicate silently.

"You will have to learn to say things aloud again if we are making a go of this triad – thingy."

"We will try. – Severus, I fear our witch is a bit tipsy, Mistress Granger would not use a word like `thingy´ otherwise. Mistress, I like that word."

"Oh yes, Antonin, we should settle our bill and get her home. I cannot wait to get those killer shoes off her dainty feet."

"Alright, alright, I do not need to hear every thought, it might kill the mood. And I am quite sure you didn't use those words. If you're interested – I think Antonin's bum is marvellous, especially in his ballet trousers and Sev's voice has made me wet my knickers since my fifth year at Hogwarts."

"I'll settle the bill!" they exclaimed in unison.

It might be a terribly overused cliché but the following night was magical. Hermione was able to drop her inhibitions to an extent she could not remember ever before.


	5. Chapter 5

Part V

Two events coincidented that led to Antonin and Severus now sitting in a small village inn in Salla, Styria. A few months ago Antonin had travelled to Italy. The first leg of the journey had been done by Portkey to Budapest. From there he would have taken a train to Venice but it had been cancelled due to a strike of the Italian train staff. Not wanting to risk getting caught in any Anti-Apparition fields the Austrian Magical Government might be having up he had un-shrunk his broom and flown over the Alps. Back home again he had mentioned to Severus how the vast woods in Styria and Carinthia had reminded him of the woods around Kurbatovo near Moscow where he had grown up.

In his research Severus came across a rare Alpine plant he might be able to use in one of his new healing potions. When he mentioned the need to go looking for fresh plants Antonin suggested making a hiking trip out of it, with the additional benefit of checking out a new place to live for them. They had found the plants – now safely stored in a special ingredients container – and had both liked the area. Now they tried to find out if the people there would be more open than their neighbours in Russia. While talking quietly over an ordinance map they had both their translation pendants on. The waiter who had brought them their food had been friendly enough and surprisingly well versed in English. The group of regulars on the table next to the bar were talking about politics. Later they discussed the priest of a village nearby who had a few weeks ago blessed two women and now was in trouble with his bishop. The eldest at that table was bemoaning the loosening morals of today's youth but quickly shut up when one of the other men reminded him of the possible reasons his youngest grandson was always staying in Vienna, rarely coming home for a visit. `Wouldn't you rather have him near, even if he lives with a man?´

That did not sound too bad. But then they were foreigners as well. And they would live together with a woman. That might be stretching the locals' patience a bit. Still it was bound to be easier than in Russia. The Austrian Magical Government had stayed firmly neutral during both VoldWars and there was no extradition between Austria and the UK's Magical Government.

During their last meeting - in Florence - the forming triad had worked on a cover story. Antonin and Severus were retired from the Foreign Legion and now were running a herbal remedies company together. Their wife Hermione was an international management consultant. All three were sure that this unusual arrangement would keep their neighbours busy enough and draw attention away from the fact of them being magical. They had not yet decided on a place to live, Bjaeresjoe near Ystad in Sweden and Haida Gwaii in Canada being other possibilities when Severus spotted a remote farm for sale in Kainach in a local newspaper he had bookmarked. One of their get-to-know-meetings, the one in Salzburg, had had two weeks of bad weather. During that time Hermione – besides being worshipped to the point of exhaustion – had introduced her men to computing and the internet. They took to it like fish to water, to the point of them having to buy a second laptop, Severus mumbling something like `Dumbledore would have planned everything better if he had played Candycrush instead of ingesting too many lemondrops´. Hermione's fears of being unable to relax due to the new situation had proved groundless. Both Antonin and Severus were meticulous and staid in their work and personal life. Being friends and companions for such a long time, having developed their own routines they usually talked whatever challenge arose through between the two of them and then presented their witch with possible solutions ahead of time. Then she thought about the possibilities, weighed pros and contras, produces lists and lastly the issue was resolved over dinner. So far it worked a treat for the new triad.

The family of three made the trip via international portkey to Graz and took a car from there. Their appointment for viewing the farm was for the following day therfore they booked a room in a local pub, not keeping the reason for their stay quiet. Soon enough locals flocked to the table they were dining on, especially after the waitress had told some other guests of their plans. One man introduced himself as the mayor of the village. He was told of the herbal remedies company and of their plans to settle down in the area. The mayor warned them not to pay too much for the farm. It had been used as a weekend home by a couple of academics from the municipal capital of Graz who obiously had not made a lot of friends in the community. When Hermione earnestly wrote down the man's recommendations for local craftsmen half the battle had been won.

The little farm was charming and with a stunning view, woods behind it and an orchard in front. As the building was old a lot had to be done but the former owners had already installed new plumbing and wiring. A few discreet charms showed them that the structure was intact and that the walls were not more damp than walls of that age should be. As the couple from Graz was in the process of divorcing, needing money quickly, Severus got a really good price and enjoyed himself immensely haggling about it.

The sale demanded a few bottles of the best local wine and some enthusiastic lovemaking. Being as tipsy as they were they forgot a Silencing spell, so at least the proprietors of the pub and the waitress living in the attic had a fairly good idea of their relationship far sooner than planned. It was decided that Severus would stay, he had the most experience with building charms, his old house in Cokeworth would have crumbled decades ago otherwise. They could not magic everything, Kainach was small enough to raise suspicions otherwise, but the Potions master would prepare the house in a way that would lessen the work to be done by the local craftsmen. Antonin and Hermione returned to their respective home countries to pack. They would hire a Squib owning a mixed moving company in Vienna, as it would be necessary for their new neighbours to see some vans.

May 10th 2011, Kainach, Styria

Hermione still struggled with the local dialect, but her and her husbands German had improved by leaps and bounds. To his joy Severus had connected with an old woman, possibly a Squib, but such things were not talked about, living in the neighbouring valley that had a vast knowledge about local plants and its uses. People from near and far were consulting her with their woes and ails and usually she was spot on with her diagnosis. Some she could help with salves and teas, others she sent to the nearest hospital for conventional medical treatment.

Hoisting her shopping bags over her shoulder – a Featherligth charm would be applied around the corner – Hermione waved to the passing kindergarden children who were on their way to the playground. She remembered Antonin's comment long ago about darkhaired tykes running around. Her men grounded her to an extent that enabled her to let go of her fears about having children. While they had their share of problems – during the long and dark winter months a heavy bout of depression had struck down Antonin for weeks, endangering the balance in their relationship as Severus had withdrawn to the point of hurting Hermione's feelings because he had feared to hurt Antonin by having a good time with her while his friend lay ill – they also had a vast experience of dealing with them and so far success in incorporating the witch into their coping mechanisms.

An old farmhouse was never finished but their new home was as close to completion as such a project could be. The barn was converted into a two-part lab, the first room Muggle-friendly, the second, warded one, a true potions lab. The company, originally founded to have a legitimate front for a potions business, was growing steadily, garnering a lot of business from Muggles. Whenever Antonin left for a new warding project it was explained as contacting new commercial costumers. The hayloft above the former stable had partly been converted to an open space with a barre, mirrors and floor fit for dancing and duelling. After the third time of all three of them ending up in a sweaty tangle on the floor – watching her men duel always aroused Hermione – a comfortable sofa was added as well. The rest of the hayloft remained as it was, Antonin had vetoed the total remodelling of the stables, cows were not planned, but he was working on convincing the other of the advantages of keeping goats.

The main house had a kitchen cum dining room, living room and a library downstairs and four bedrooms and two studies upstairs. Sev was already talking about adding a greenhouse study to his lab.

Interactions with immediate neighbours – the closest being a kilometre by road, a half through the woods, away – and villagers were friendly. The carpenter who had worked during the renovations on their house had invited Severus to hold a stall with his products at the annual Christmas fair. Hermione and Antonin had taken care to man the stall as well. By then they could at least communicate the basics with the locals without translating pendants, the rest was done in English. They were invited to a Christmas concert and two balls, one to raise money for the local fire brigade and the other a fancy dress ball on Rose Monday. On the evening of that Hermione had a near heart-attack as Antonin had seen fit to keep his old Death Eater robes shrunk somewhere and wanted to use them as part of his Dr Zhivago costume, a theme he had concocted with the octogenarian who sometimes moonlighted in the public library of Kainach. Severus used the chance to model some pieces of his impressive vintage shirt collection, changed his jeans to bell-bottoms and slung an inflatable guitar around his neck. After twenty or so false guesses by his lovers he finally, with a much put upon sigh, told them that he was Pete Townsend of "The Who" for this night. Now that her hair had grown out the state of unmanageable Hermione gave in to a long-cherished wish of her and went as Princess Leia. All three had fun that night, no shortage of dancing partners and a rather bad hangover the next day.

"Did I really do the kazachok yesterday?" Antonin grumbled over his first cup of coffee.

"Yes, love. And you kept it up for nearly two minutes before falling on your bum. But you were marvellous," Hermione took the sting out of her words.

"Trying to impress. Watch it or you will be ask to join that group of men doing this strange mating dance in lederhosen," Severus chimed in.

"Nah, that's for youngsters. Mrs Hinterfellner from the library told me that the ritual clapping on calves and bums is meant to draw the eyes of young women and show them that the men are strong and able to work hard."

"And you told that primary teacher about us doing barre workouts. For a Russian you do not hold your liquor well. Expect her to ask you to teach a flock of giggling girls in pink tutus."

"Antonin can always say no. If she ever asks. And Sev, did you realise that quite a few people recorded your karaoke performance of `My Generation´ on their mobiles? Let's hope that no one uploads it on YouTube. Harry is always watching `Dr. Who´ there during his lunch-break, your cover might be blown if he stumbles across your video."

At Severus' look of panic Hermione continued, "I might have tried an experimental spell of mine that makes mobile videos go fuzzy. It worked on mine, you are quite safe."

"I think I will go back to bed again, anyone joining me?" Antonin made the only sensible suggestion of the morning. Even the best hangover relief potion could not make up for missed sleep.

Hermione had kept her London flat and so far her predictions of her friends not noticing her moving had proved true. Harry had hinted at her having a lover on the continent to which she had smiled mysteriously, prompting her quasi-brother to remark that she should introduce her beau when she was ready. Luna had not been so easily diverted and had visited in early Spring. She congratulated Antonin on having got rid of his Wrackspurts and hugged Severus, driving him to distraction in the lab while trying Antonin to agree to re-arrange the planting in their kitchen- and potions garden. She also got the men to hang a swing in the chestnut tree in front of the house, admonishing them to make two extra loops over the branch.

"You will need the swing a bit lower for my god-daughter in a while."

Hermione had watched and listened from the kitchen window, had seen that neither man had voiced any protest. But neither she nor them had talked about Luna's remark. Maybe it was time. The witch went over her supplies in her head. Yes, she had everything at home for a tiramisu. Over the last year of cohabitation that dish had become a sign that one of them had something on his or her mind. If she put it on the table after dinner her men would know to brace themselves.

A knock disturbed Severus during brewing. That was unusual in itself, as mostly his lovers sent their Patroni to the lab if they needed him urgently. A knock meant Muggle visitors were on the premises or something else entirely.

"Come in!"

Antonin stuck his head inside the doorframe. When he saw that nothing too obnoxious was brewing he entered and closed and warded the door. Sev put his potion in Stasis.

"Why this cloak and dagger?"

"She's making tiramisu! Did you do anything? She's not unhappy, is she?"

It was an acknowledged fact in their relationship that Severus was the one with insecurity issues which made Antonin's behaviour even more suspicious.

"I didn't do anything! And Hermione is not unhappy, to my knowledge." But doubt crept up on him.

"I didn't think so either."

"Is it that time of month? Sometimes she just craves chocolate and won't give in to just eating it, it has to be hidden in some desert."

"No, as you well know." The two men looked at each other.

"Maybe she just wants to tell us that goats are negotiable."

"Mhm." The Russian did not buy the explanation, "No, that would be a topic for breakfast or tea. Tiramisu means something more important." His mind no longer on his potions Severus suggested, "We'll go and ask her."

Putting cocoa over the tiramisu before putting it in the icebox Hermione saw her wizards hoover in the doorway.

"Are you peckish? Dinner is in two hours but there's enough for some sandwiches."

"No. Hermione, you made tiramisu."

"Oh, that. Under the lindentree?"

Antonin nodded while Severus put three glasses and a jug of just freshly made elderberryflower cordial on a tray. Hermione lowered the heat for the stew she was making and followed them outside. Right next to the door, with a stunning view over the valley, was a bench and a table under an old lindentree. Mornings were still too chilly, but lunch and tea could already be taken outside, when the weather was favourable.

With her wizards seating across her she cut right to the point.

"Antonin, when I met you two in St. Petersburg and we started to think about the three of us, you described a kitchen with colourcoded charts of our different work commitments and some darkhaired tykes running around. We have the kitchen and the chart, how serious were you about a child, or children?"

Severus was more subdued but Antonin's face suffused with joy.

"Very much so! We just did not want you to feel pressured."

"Right. It hasn't happened before when I held Harry's or Neville's kids, but today, when I met the kindergarden children in the village I started thinking about some of our own. You know what held me back from ever contemplating children but this last year I have learnt to trust you and trust myself. I am absolutely sure that I can leave any child of mine with you if I have to work in Britain or elsewhere and I am equally sure that you two would put a stop to any obsessive behaviour on my side that could harm our children in any way. What I do not know is if everything is alright with me. I did the counterspell and went throught with the regime of potions you wrote to me in your first letter but I was never tested afterwards."

"That is easily remedied. You could go to San Lorenzo when you are in Bologna next week. Or I can do the basic checks. I learned them when Lucius and Narcissa had trouble conceiving."

"I'd rather you do them. If I go to San Lorenzo there is bound to be a healer there with a cousin in England and then my results are printed in the `Prophet´. What about you? Should we just let fate decided or would you both want a heir? Sev has been thinking of resurfacing because of being the last of the Prince family."

"If I had a son or a daughter I would definitely claim the Prince seats. And I would try to get Antonin exonerated, fourteen years are more than enough for what he's done. Lucius owes both of us big time. For now any children would be named Granger under Austrian law, but by the time they were eleven they should be able to use either Granger Snape or Granger Dolohov, even if we chose not to send them to Hogwarts."

"I could take your names and we all go with Dolohov-Snape or Snape-Dolohov." Both looked at Hermione in astonishment, Antonin finally voiced their thoughts, "I would have bet my wand on you never agreeing to drop your name. And we would never have asked you. It is kind of you to offer, but I don't think it's a good idea."

"Monumentally stupid, that's what it is! Only a Hufflepuff and a Gryffindor could come up with something like that! The Granger name and the reputation that goes with it is our biggest asset, and it offers our children protection, should they ever want to live in England. Antonin, wasn't you baboushkas name Sokolov? That's a rather common name in Russia, you could take it officially."

"Ah, Sev. You're fishing for rather ridculous alliterations! Spartacus Sokolov Snape! Saffronia Snape Sokolov!"

"Stop it before I decided to procreate with more intelligent men! That would be Granger-Snape-Sokolov. Certainly a mouthful. We can't use long first names, brace yourself for Jane, Hugh and Grace."

"We are putting the cart before the horse." Sev tried to be the voice of reason. "Are we all in agreement that we try to get pregnant?" Hermione nodded and beamed at him. Antonin seemed to weigh whether to say something. He finally did, "I want to make a stipulation. Let's try to avoid the winter months for the birth. I will use that new Muggle drug Hermione wanted me to take the last time, but I will likely never be my best during that time of year. And I want to be there for you and for the baby."

"Of course, love, it's only sensible. And we have at least nine months to make a decision regarding names." She looked at them with a gleam in her eyes, "You realise that's more than six months without contraceptive potions or spells, if we do not get pregnant earlier. Ginny tells me that sex is even better without them."

"Hush, you crazy woman. If I think of Mr and Mrs Potter in that way there will be no sex at all. Are you sure your stew is still ok?" At her look of distress Severus chuckled and left to check on dinner.

"Hermione, there is something you should know. Sev had to brew some terrible potions for Voldemort and even for Dumbledore. I think he fears for his ability to father children, at the very least his chances are lower than average. If we leave everything to chance he might not have any biological ones. I think we should make sure after our first child that the other one of us fathers the second."

"I would have wished for both of you to have at least one biological child each anyway."

The stew was salvable and the tiramisu was delicious. The fare was not too heavy to prevent any hindrance to the trio pursuing their new project of getting pregnant.


	6. Chapter 6

Part VI

March 21st 2012

Serafina Cybele Granger-Snape was born on March 21st the following year. No paternity potions were required, she sported a shock of fine black hair and a scowl identical to that of her father. The local midwife had been apprehensive risking a home birth because of the baby's breech presentation still a week from the predicted due date but Antonin had sung an ancient Russian midwifery spell every evening for a week until the baby turned. That night had been quite uncomfortable for Hermione and when her labour set in she was more than ready for this pregnancy to be over.

Despite her scowl Serafina was an even-tempered baby. She seemed to know her mother's need for safe routines and slept in four-hour stretches nearly from day one. Antonin and Severus would wait for the slightest cry of boredom from their daughter and nearly fought over who was allowed to soothe her. They also had looked on in awe every time Hermione nursed the little one, until the mother had put her foot down.

Serafina was cradled in the Potions master's arms while he carried her around the library and living room, explaining ingredients and potions to her or whispering to her about the stupidity of certain Wizengamot members. When Hermione had got pregnant he had written a letter to Harry Potter and to Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt. Lucius' tears at their reunion had embarrassed him truly but now he enjoyed the week he spent in Britain every two months, visited with the Malfoys, attended the Wizengamot sessions, had lunch with head-Auror Harry Potter and played cards with Kingsley, Arthur Weasley and George Weasley. After Serafina's birth Severus had given his voting rights over to Lucius for the next two periods as he could not imagine to be parted from her for even half a day.

Antonin had found an old wicker bassinet in the farm's cellar. He had cleaned and painted it and now used it to take Serafina outside with him when he was working in the garden. If she was grouchy he put her in a baby-sling while he turned the soil and prepared the beds. Early May had brought a spell of very warm weather which led to the Russian to drape his shirt over the wooden fence coralling the vegetable patch against deer from the near woods. Standing shirtless, mud streaks across his cheeks and Serafina in her sling, the picture Hermione took then grew to be one of her all-time favourite pictures.

As Harry had seen Hermione for the last time in November no one except Luna and the Grangers knew of her pregnancy. During that meeting Hermione had told Harry of her now living on a farm and had invited him for a visit in late Spring after taking vow of silence. The Auror knew that the move and the visit might be connected to the witch's mysterious love interest and had amused her with increasingly ridiculous guesses, none of which were anywhere close. So in early June Hermione fetched a bouncy Boy-Who-Lived from Voitsberg's railway station with their elderly Volvo four-wheel drive (Antonin still occasionally bemoaned the loss of the Lada but shrinking and enlarging did not work for cars and driving from St. Petersburg to Styria would have killed anyone's nerves and the car as well).

After an enthusiastic hug Harry had looked her over and stated that she was glowing and that the move to Austria must have been the right one for her. During the drive he took in the scenery and babbled on nervously. When they took the turn leading up to the farm Hermione stopped on the side of the narrow road and demanded her friend's wand.

He turned in his seat to look at her again, worried.

"Why ever would you need that? I made a vow of silence and you must know that I would not hurt anyone who makes you as happy as you apparently are! Don't think I did not notice that you struggled sometimes and that you must have felt lonely with all of us pairing up and having kids. Even before that I guess we sometimes bored you to tears." He stopped himself there.

"Voldiearse is truly dead, isn't he? You being with him I would have issues, I guess." Hermione raised her left eyebrow.

"Ha! It's Severus! If I think it over that makes a whole lot of sense! And that would explain why you would need a whole farmhouse, with all those books! Didn't he tell you that we meet regularly when he's in London for sessions? I would never hex him, Head-Auror or not, I know to chose my battles."

"Yes, it's Severus, but that's not everything. Your wand, please, Harry. It is important to me that this first meeting goes smoothly."

When Harry handed over his wand, handle first, he noticed two wet patches on the witch's blouse. As a father of three he knew what that meant and shot her a beaming smile.

"Let's go! I can't wait to meet your baby!"

They drove on and soon reached the farm. Serafina's cries were not yet desperate – Hermione had used the breast-pump before going to the train station – but forceful enough. She fairly run into the living room where Antonin was trying to get the baby to use the bottle.

"Hello, my lovely, Mummy's here, don't cry!" she cooed. She would have to trust the men for introductions and for not hexing each other, now her daughter's needs came first. Antonin handed the squirming bundle over and with a grunt that sounded like `Finally, you dunderhead!´ Serafina latched on. Severus bade the other wizards to the kitchen to give Hermione privacy. The young mother tried not to think on the three most important men – besides her father, but that relationship still had not recovered – in her life in the kitchen.

She would have felt a Silencing spell going up, therefore she relaxed when the next minutes brought no sound of breaking crockery or spell-damage. But then Antonin was heard going up the stairs. He sounded upset. A minute later Severus' lighter tread reached her ears and she silently urged Serafina on to finish, knowing such a thing to be futile. A sheepish looking Harry Potter sidled back into the living room, keeping his eyes averted.

"Oh come on, Harry! You've seen them countless times in that wretched tent! Why is Antonin upset?"

The Head-Auror raised his hands placatingly.

"He is overwhelmed, I think. I only told him about the re-opening of his case. And he is angry at Severus because he knew that Susan Bones had been going over all the old Crouch cases, even if the accused were already dead. Quite a few of those cases got at least their names cleared to an extent posthumously. D comes fairly early in the alphabet."

"Why would that upset Antonin?"

"Two days ago Susan presented his case. Arthur was called to testify because of Professor Flitwick's testimony. Filius repeated in the Wizengamot what he had tried to tell the Aurors after the deaths of the Prewetts, namely that Dolohov had told his old Head of House of a formal duel he was to attend as a second. It had been his first time in that role and he wanted to know everything about his duties. Later on Moody changed his story from lost duel to infamous Death Eater murders. Dumbledore then used Filius' estrangement with the Goblin world and his job at Hogwarts to keep the professor mum. It seems that Dolohov was a favourite pupil of his Head of House, expected to do revolutionary charms and wards work after Hogwarts. In Filius words, `If not for that perversion of justice in Mr Dolohov's case countless people could have been saved and the wizarding world as a whole be better protected due to the genius of that man. It is my biggest regret and my greatest failure not having been able to save that young man.´ Arthur then had to testify under oath. He only got off and obstruction of justice sentence because he only suspected foul play, he did not know for sure, and because of the statute of limitations on that charge."

Just as the farmhouse as a whole shook Serafina finally released Hermione's nipple with a plop, craning her head at the unfamiliar voice.

"Oh Merlin, they're duelling! Could you burp Serafina for me?" Throwing a towel at Harry's shoulder she handed the baby over and ran towards the converted hayloft. By the time she reached the room everything was over, they were tending to each other's scratches and bruises, Antonin's eyes suspiciously shiny before he froze.

"You left our daughter with that boy? What if he upsets her?"

"That boy has three children older than Serafina, she will be fine with Harry. What about you two? Did you clear the air? I cannot have you two sulking, Harry at my heels like a puppy and my parents coming in two weeks!"

"Calm down, dushka, Sev did not want to get my hopes up, he would have told me as soon as the Wizengamot had reached a decision. It was overwhelming, that's all."

"I am glad that you will be exhonerated finally. Will you write to Professor Flitwick?"

"I will. Or even visit." At Hermione's movement to hug him the Russian stepped back, "Don't. I will not lose my composure in front of Harry Potter, there's time for that later."

Downstairs they found Harry standing at the kitchen window overlooking the garden with Serafina in his arms, pointing out a mocking bird on the fence. Her black eyes followed the movement of his fingers pointing outside before fixating on his face again. Severus was all business.

"Did you burp her properly?"

Harry tried to hide his grin, "To the extent of my meager capabilities. And an impressive burp it was! Well done, little one!"

"Potter! This is no joke, the air can cause her severe tummy aches!"

"Severus, please. I do know about these things." `More than you.´ was left unsaid, as Harry diplomatically continued, "And I well remember that first time as a dad, when nothing and nobody was careful enough to handle my son. I had a screaming match with Molly over it."

"Molly?" Antonin intercepted. Severus explained, "Molly Weasley, née Prewett. She has seven children, with a set of twins, and a gaggle of grandchildren by now. And the family's too poor for elves. There is arguably no witch in Britain more knowledgable about child-rearing."

"Prewett, eh? I remember a Molly Prewett. She was a year over me. About as emphatic as a Tupulew."

"What is a Tupulew, Mr Dolohov?"

Severus and Antonin rolled their eyes in tandem, "A big Russian aircraft. Call me Antonin."

"Harry." At Harry's move to shake Antonin's hand Severus took Serafina back. Hermione intervened, "How about a tour of the house? I'll show you to your room."

One guest-room was ready, the second nearly so. Mr and Mrs Granger were to visit in July. At Christmas, during a rather stilted, dutiful telephone call, Hermione had told her parents of them going to be grandparents. Her reluctance to tell them more over the phone had led to another set of accusations and a cessation of communication, at least until Hermione had mailed them a picture of Serafina. Since then they talked to their daughter weekly, both parties skirting any topics likely to raise discord again, mostly discussing Serafina's amazing progress. The witch did look at the visit with apprehension, her husbands wavering between support and the rubbing of tense neck-muscles or banning the elder Grangers entirely, as they were bound to upset the little family. Hermione still believed that they would come around. Growing up with liberal, modern thinking parents who seemed to accept cultural pecularities with ease, even those of the wizarding world, made it difficult for her to accept their grievances. Plus - she _had _abused their trust and she _had_ hurt them terribly by Obliviating them without consent. Time would tell. And Serafina would help.


	7. Chapter 7

Part VII

Harry had left three days later and another three days brought an owl with Antonin's official, if posthumous, pardon. Susan Bones, who had become the most prominent human rights lawyer of wizarding Britain, had digged deep: As Antonin never had had a trial she started right at the beginning. He was absolved of any guilt on the deaths of Gideon and Fabian Prewett, was charged of being a member of a terrorist organisation, was absolved of any further crimes during that time as the evidence was airtight that the whole seven months of his being a Death Eater before his incarceration he had been working on more flexible wards to hide the wizarding world from modern Muggle technology. Yes, Voldemort had ordered these wards to be developped, but the Unspeakables had examined them after 1981, had deemed them a work of art and had used them on Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade and St Mungo's since then. The Russian furthermore was charged with injuring the minor Hermione Granger during the battle at the ministry and of damaging public property. All together he received a sentence of twelve years in Azkaban, which were of course considered served. The ministry was to pay damages for two years in jail. The money was to be kept for 99 years in case any heirs came forward, the annual interest went to Hogwarts' orphan's fund, as per usual in such cases.

Taking the case had put a strain on Susan Bones' relationship with her mother-in-law, Molly Weasley, but Ron had managed to smooth things over by emphasizing Susan's compassionate nature and strong sense of justice as being a good trait in a wife planning a Quidditch team full of children.

"But Ronald, Dolohov starts with a D! By the time she's finished both of you will be in your sixties!"

"I pointed that out and we agreed for Susan now to look at the cases of those living still – only three left - and start trying for a baby right now. But Mum, please do not pester her about it, you know that her mother had four miscarriages before having Susan. She is afraid that she will have similar troubles."

"Of course, poor Delia, I had forgotten. I will not breathe a word, Ronniekins."

Ronald Weasley would really have liked to believe his mother.

The master bedroom at the farm of the Granger-Snape-Dolohov family contained a large bed that comfortably slept three and a baby, a nursing pillow and a dragon plushie. Now it gained an addition in form of a baby bed with one side dropped, to make it easier accessible from the master bed. Even after the Muggle midwife had declared Hermione ready to have sex again her husbands had been strangely reluctant. They told her often enough how beautiful and glowing they thought her, and that the added curves on her belly and hips only added to her desirability, but did not act on it. Or drew her into a heated snog only to forget about it if Serafina made a little noise. When during a shopping trip down in the village Hermione found the baby bed on a `For Sale´ ad on the post office window she bought it. Then cloistered herself in the bedroom for two hours. That evening she wore a dress instead of her usual comfortable clothes. The dress was simple and modest by any standards but fit her now, with a few pounds extra, in a very interesting way, if the heated glances of her lovers during dinner were an indication. Afterwards Hermione nursed a sleepy Serafina – the baby had been awake for over three hours by then – for what she hoped was the last time until two or three in the morning while the men cleaned up the kitchen. She put her daughter to bed upstairs and came back down after cleaning the spot and smell of milk-spittle from her dress. For a Ravenclaw and a Slytherin the glances of her husbands were remarkably unsubtle.

"Hermione, Leopold from the Auinger Homestead told me of a contraption they are using, a baby-phone. What do you think about it?" Antonin asked her, glass of red wine in hand.

"I want to show you something I experimented with this afternoon. A baby-phone could work, but I think we just charm her plushy to alert us, vibrating our wands, if Serafina is in distress. Come upstairs!"

They followed her eagerly, Severus stealing a kiss even before they reached the bedroom. Inside Hermione directed the Potions master behind Serafina's bed and flicked her wand. A shimmering shield flared up. She drew Antonin on the bed and proceeded to snog him thoroughly.

"What a glorious sight!" Severus could be heard. Hermione beckoned him over.

"Did you hear us?"

"No, not a sound."

"We will hear Serafina but we won't disturb her. And later I can adapt the shield to make it milky, for now she doesn't yet know what she would see if we-"

Antonin piped up, "Adapt it now, I would feel better if she can't see more than silhouettes."

The adapted shield was tested to the mutual satisfaction of all three.

Meeting their first grand-child went a long way to smooth over any lingering ill-will the Grangers felt towards their daughter. Seeing her in a relationship with two men, men who were considerably older and known Death Eaters, distracted them further. Antonin managed to keep Mr Granger busy with various DIY and garden projects and Hermione had a heart-to-heart talk with her mother about being a mother. Mrs Granger told her daughter for the first time how overwhelmed and ill-prepared she had been home alone with a newborn while her husband worked tirelessly to keep their new practice afloat. The grandmother could see and appreciate how much better Hermione and her husbands coped. The young witch confided that without her utterly reliable and organized partners she would not easily have dared to have children, too ingrained had her need for order and predictability become.

After two weeks the young family was heartily glad to have time alone again but very reliefed that the senior Grangers were once again truly part of the family. In early August Severus went to Britain for the first time since Serafina's birth. He visited with Minerva McGonagall and delivered a letter from Antonin to a tearful Filius Flitwick. After meeting with several business contacts he had dinner with the Potters. Harry's chance comment about how their second son had come about – apparently breastfeeding was not a reliable form of contraception – prompted him to send home a frantic Patronus. It came way too late. Aljosha Granger-Dolohov was born on April 21st 2013, sharing his birthday with Queen Elizabeth II of England.

Serafina was by then crawling and walking and talking. Her little brother, born three weeks earlier than predicted, brought their parents to his knees more quickly than Voldemort ever managed. Aljosha, despite being declared healthy by both Muggle and wizarding healers, cried near constantly. Hermione had not been as exhausted since her camping trip with the Horcrux even though her husbands had cancelled all their professional commitments to help.

When Aljosha was ten weeks old Severus came home from shopping in the village with Serafina to find Antonin slumped over on the kitchen table, cheek in a halfbuttered cut of bread and Hermione in a similar state on the living room settee, having fallen asleep while nursing her son. Who was again getting ready to cry. The Potions master put a stasis charm on his shopping, straightened Hermione's neck and Transfigured Antonin's bread into a pillow. He put Aljosha in the baby-sling and Serafina in a baby back-carrier they had used for short hikes and started the treck through the woods to the neighbouring valley where Mrs Steiner, the local traditional healer, lived. While he was in regular contact with her usually since the time of Aljosha's birth he had neigher time nor energy for trading knowledge about herbs with the woman. Now she might be their only salvation.

Halfway towards Mrs Winter both children were fast asleep. Severus ment to smell some mushrooms in a particularly dense part of the forest and made a mental note to come back later as there was no way he would be able to bend down to retrieve the mushrooms and he did not want to risk either using magic or putting the sleeping children down.

How the old woman had known Severus could not fathom but she had his coffee ready when he knocked. He left Serafina in the carrier, just put the whole contraption on Mrs Winter's settee. Aljosha began to stir again after three gulps of coffee. The Potions master hastened to explain the problem. His German was getting better and better but the old woman spoke a language that was nowhere near written German. She beckoned to hold the by now squirming boy, sniffed his neck, his behind and his fingers, looked into the baby's eyes for a long time and prodded his tummy with her gnarled fingers. When she balanced Aljosha on her fist Severus was hard pressed not to intervene.

"Don't worry, Severus, I won't drop him. That was just to test his muscle tonus. He was born a bit early, wasn't he?" Severus nodded, no longer surprised at how far news travelled in these remote parts.

"There is nothing wrong with him, that is the good news. The bad news is that I cannot give you any herbs you haven't tried already for an easy solution. Little Aljosha here just hasn't grown into his own yet. Being born and growing at the speed newborns do is hard work, his digestive system is not yet up to it. He is not in pain really, but feels unwell. Hold him, carry him, cuddle him, it will be over soon. I guess he will be coltish with the worst case of spots around here while falling hopelessly in love much too soon to understand what he is feeling when he reaches puberty. And you will be there for him and love him and he will weather it with all your support."

Severus saw himself at the age of thirteen, long limbs he would have fallen over constantly if not the ballet workout he'd done in an abandoned classroom and the first potion he had developed, a stronger version of Blemish-be-gone. And he compared his background to the one Aljosha would have and relaxed. He pressed a kiss on the infant's crown. Mindful that the baby would be hungry again soon he thanked Mrs Steiner, pressing an arthritis salve into the woman's hands and turned to go.

"Severus, wait! Take this with you, it worked a treat with my youngest great-grandchild!"

"That's a hair-dryer."

"Yes. The warm air is fine on an upset tummy but I guess they get so distracted by the noise that thing makes they forget about being unwell."

Thankfully Serafina still slept on, otherwise they would have had to spend some time petting Mrs Steiner's goats before going home. Maybe he should join Antonin in persuading Hermione to have goats of their own. Very rarely could she resist both.

The hair-dryer was often in use during the time after the visit but three weeks later Aljosha was sleeping just like Serafina had. Another fortnight later their parents, well rested again, could scarcely remember those harrowing weeks of not sleeping and constantly worrying. Antonin, ever paranoid, checked himself for compulsion charms only to find the solution in one of Hermione's Muggle parenting books. It seemed there was a hormone that let mother's forget the pain of the birth and parents those first weeks.


	8. Chapter 8

Part VIII

_Author's note: Thank you, dear readers, for your reviews, favs and follows. This story was a new adventure for me and therfore fraught with more tension than usual. Enjoy the conclusio!_

July 31st, 2014

Antonin was eager to see his family again after having braved a return to British soil. He had kept a low profile, spending time at Hogwarts and helping Filius Flitwick and Headmistress McGonagall recasting the wards on the school and its grounds, paying the Malfoys a perfunctionary visit and meeting a prospective costumer, a Russian who had bought a Muggle manor and now wished it to be warded. It was a complicated and challenging job even for Antonin, as the owner's wife was a Muggle who wanted to entertain guests. Their four children were all magical and Quidditch mad. During the train journey from Vienna's international Portkey station Antonin thought about the conundrum that situation presented. He came up with the idea of a verbally triggered Apparition spot that would bring the children to the heavily warded Quidditch field in the remotest part of the grounds.

He would not have thought that a week could be so long, even if filled with good things. Hermione was waiting with the car, Aljosha strapped into a safety seat. The boy seemed to have grown during the last few days. Now that he was sleeping better and regurgitating less milk he shot up like a weed. Life was good.

September 24th, 2017

Severus couldn't suppress his snigger seeing Antonin in a sea of little girls in tutus – pink, light blue, yellow – and three boys, one of them Aljosha. The local primary had installed a barre in their gym and the old librarian had donated her pianino when her arthritis had gotten worse. Hermione was quite sure that some local mothers only sent their children to see the Russian in leggins. Most of the time their son was playing with his tractor but sometimes he joined in, showing more talent than all the elder children combined. Serafina was in her last year of kindergarden. Since her brother had joined her there the Potions master felt their absence keenly. He would scoff at anyone calling him an empty-nester but he would make a tiramisu to honour their wife's return from a conference in Milano later that week. Thirtyeight was not old in childbearing years for a witch, but he felt it was best to present the idea of a third child rather sooner than later.

The lesson well under way Severus asked his neighbour Mrs Auinger to keep an eye on Aljosha and tell him that his Daddy had popped out for some shopping if the boy asked. Even with a lenghty chat with the cashier the shopping at the local supermarket did not take long as most of their fruit and vegetables they grew on the farm. Severus made a small detour and sat in the last pew of St. George, the catholic church of Kainach. He enjoyed the peace and quiet and took some time for reflexion. Life had been more than good to him, to Antonin, to Hermione. It had been a long time since Severus last felt insecure in his relationship with his lovers and the witch often enough told her husbands how lucky she had been to meet them that day in St. Petersburg. She felt that she lived her dream-life and that that could not have been possible with any other partner. Or partners. After more than seven years the Potions master started to believe her.

The triad had had their share of problems, of course. Antonin was able to show his love and appreciation much more freely than Severus, a quality that made the younger man green with envy and at best cranky, at worst irrationally jealous. After two such episodes and his banishment to the settee in the duel-room Antonin took him on a demanding hike, giving him a piece of his mind.

The Russian's spells of depression grew less severe over the time but put Hermione under a lot of stress nevertheless. She was not built to accept something as status-quo. Severus thought she really did not know how much she hurt Antonin with her constant endavours to heal him. The men had talked about this. If the Russian was allright he could rationalise his wife's efforts, if he was in the grip of depression he felt rejected as a whole person. Both agreed never to tell Hermione about this.

As the clock struck Severus stood and went back to the primary school to collect the children. Antonin was holding another class, this one for the local football team. When Severus a year ago had been roped in to play in a senior's match the trainer had marvelled about his ability to cut through the defenders like a hot knife through butter. In the shower room he had been asked about it and had explained how his ballet workout enabled him to be quick and nimble. The others had laughed themselves silly but after a round where the whole team had flung tennis balls at Severus and he had managed to dodge all but three the trainer had commanded his players to attend lessons. Since then either Severus or Antonin trained with the team over the winter months, balance and jumps mostly. The hard work had born fruit when the team finished second in its league, after decades of being in the lower third of the ranking.

While he strapped Ajlosha into his safety-seat Serafina nattered on about the lesson and her friends.

"And, Daddy, Leopold is going to have a new sister after Christmas! Could I have a sister, too? Aljosha is allright, but I really, really would like to have a sister, too!"

Daddy might be his favourite word. Antonin was Papa.

"You will have to ask Mummy about it. She will be home tomorrow."

"Mummy home one time go to sleep?"

"Yes, Aljosha, tomorrow is after you have gone to sleep only one more time. Clever boy!"

"I knew that when I was a baby!" Serafina chimed in.

Severus had to think quickly to head off the escalating row and said, "Pancakes with chocolate spread?"

"Yes, Daddy! But you will have to help Joshi to clean his teeth afterwards, Grandpa said so."

"Of course, let's go."

"Brrm, brrm." Thankfully Aljosha was once again focused on his tractor.

Over the years the family grew. Mikhail – named after Mikhail Barishnikov, as Hermione vetoed Rudolf – and Emilia were born when Serafina had started primary school. No one bothered with paternity potions anymore, Hermione honestly did not care and neither did her husbands. In the summer before Serafina started at Hogwarts they had a bonding ceremony in Avebury for their triad, attended by few true friends. The girl was sorted into Ravenclaw, her brother went to Hufflepuff. The twins, Slytherins, choose to attend Hogwarts as well and broke the Weasley twins' record for points deducted due to a prank that took the combined efforts of all staff for two weeks to unravel as it combined wards, potions and charms.

The Granger-Snape-Dolohovs were happy on their farm and dreaded the time they would have to relocate due to the different aging process and life span of wizards. For now all was well.

Fin


End file.
